The journey of a thousand steps begins with a single, that much is true. But what the adage forgot to include was in which direction to take the step.

Climbing the twenty three steps up to Adamas’ room was a challenge for Mono; not physically, of course, but mentally. Every tread up the staircase made him want to go back, to extend the journey by just a single more stride and put off the arrival to his destination until it became easier.

Except it would never get easier, he now knew. Instead, delaying the journey would only cause a mistake to be repeated as one stagnated between the two steps instead of reaching the third.

Mono pushed through his reservations and finished ascending the stairs. Turning into a small hallway, he knocked on the first door.

“Adam?”

There came no response.

Immediately, the negative voice seized the opportunity. It looks like the elder Weaver didn’t want to talk after all, best come back later when—

He grabbed the knob and opened the door.

Inside, the open window let in the early morning sunlight and gentle ocean wind, which wafted through the room to lightly blow the hair of the man sleeping on the king-sized bed.

“Adam?”

The elder Weaver’s eyes slowly opened. “Mono, good to see you. Sorry to have dozed off after asking you to come talk. How are you?”

Closing the door behind him, Mono took a few steps forward.“I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t asking for who you are. I was asking how you are,” Adamas said with an amused smile.

Mono didn’t smile back. “I mean it, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“That’s not true! Because of me, you were forced to run yourself ragged to catch up with us. Not only that, you had to fight a monster while practically unarmed. Everything bad that happened to you and Vivian is my fault.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“How else can you see it?”

“You saved Vivian’s life, Mono.”

“What are you talking about? All I did was—”

“When I was trapped underneath the snow,” Adamas interrupted, “she wanted to rescue me by Weaving a rope, as I’m sure you recall. If she had attempted to do so, the Weaving's eventual failure would have meant that she either fell to her death or put me in a position to have to somehow get the both of us to safety; an impossible feat in the Vatam Range’s thin air. By convincing her to get help instead, you prevented her from recklessly endangering her life while making it easier for me to save mine.”

There was a brief silence after Adamas’ analysis. It was clear that he was expecting a response, but Mono stayed silent.

“I can see that you’re still unconvinced,” the elder Weaver continued after a moment. “Let’s approach this from a different perspective: realistically, was there anything else you could have done differently for the better?”

“Not that I can think of,” Mono replied.

“Then why are you putting so much blame on yourself?”

“Because I abandoned you! I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better, Adam, but it won’t work. I’m just a coward, someone who runs away when things are hard; a promise breaker whose word is less believable than the fictional stories he escapes to.”

His voice shook at the last sentence. Why had he been so confident that he could change? A few words didn’t have the power to instantly change a person’s behavior.

“Are you sure you’re talking about the decisions you made in the Vatam Range?”

Mono blinked. “What? Of course I am.”

“You just mentioned being a promise breaker. I certainly don’t recall any oaths being made during our trip.”

“Well I…”

“Mono, I’ll ask again: are you sure this isn’t about something else? Something similar that happened a long time ago involving… family?”

“No,” Mono replied immediately. “It has nothing to do with that.”

“I think it does. What happened?”

“That’s not the issue! That decision happened a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it matters,” the elder Weaver said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so defensive about it while projecting the guilt you feel onto similar circumstances.”

Mono had no rebuttal, so he just crossed his arms.

His friend sighed. “I seem to recall a similar situation involving two people, an apology, and repeated behavior. What was it one of them said? It was something about an apology meaning that it wouldn’t happen again, and that externalizing an issue might help the other person move on.”

“Don’t throw my words back at me,” Mono snapped.

“Then take your own advice.”

The two stared at each other, Mono with a glare and Adamas with a raised eyebrow.

It was an impasse, one that could only be broken, Mono realized, by storming out or opening up. His mind was suddenly back at the stairs. Step up or step down. What would it be?

After a moment of internal struggling, he uncrossed his arms. “I had a younger brother.”

“Were you close with him?”

“Very.”

“What happened?”

“After our parents separated on unfriendly terms, my brother and I made a promise to always stick together. I broke it less than a year later, running away to a big city. I never saw him again.”

“When did you learn that he passed away?”

The question made Mono furrow his brow. “What?”

Adamas winced. “Sorry, was I too insensitive?”

“No, it’s just that he is still alive.”

“Then why did you say you ‘had’ a brother?”

“I don’t deserve to be called his brother.”

“You’re not the one who decides that. You should talk with your sibling and see what he thinks.”

“Adam, years have passed since then. It’s far too late to make amends. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

“It’s never too late,” the elder Weaver insisted.

“How do you know?”

“Because I would have forgiven Kai if he had apologized and explained himself,” Adamas said.

While he understood the significance of the parallel, Mono was dubious. “But didn’t you say that you never wanted to see Kai again?”

“I said that out of anger, expecting him to explicitly give an apology while refusing to listen to anything else. Knowing what I know now, I would have forgiven him the next opportunity I got. Too bad I won’t ever have that chance.”

The elder Weaver had a faraway look while speaking the last sentence. After a moment, his eyes refocused and he continued to speak.

“I know the situations aren’t the exact same, but if I’m willing to forgive a close friend for a significant betrayal, then your sibling can forgive a close brother for a moment of weakness in their childhood.” ”

“Are you sure?” Mono hesitantly asked.

“Completely.”

Adamas’ confident claim made Mono feel better, easing his doubts. Not completely, but the words helped the same way that Daven’s had.

Daven.

At the thought of the deity, he recalled the odd request from his dream. It didn’t seem so hard to do now, after his chat with Adamas. How would he go about doing it though?

“I can see that you have a lot on your mind,” the elder Weaver said, interrupting Mono’s thoughts. “Why don’t you go do what you need to do and think about what we’ve talked about.”

“How do you know I need to do something?”

Adamas yawned. “I’m good at reading body language, remember?”

“But that accurately?” Mono marvelled. “You need to teach me how to do that sometime.”

“I can do so when we leave Davenport in a few days.”

Though the sentence was casual, the meaning behind it was significant. Mono was still invited to come home with the Weavers. If he wanted to.

“Yeah, let’s do it on the trip,” Mono said with a smile. He began to walk back towards the door, stopping right before he twisted the handle. “Adam, thanks for talking to me. I do feel better.”

There was no response save for the sound of light snoring. He turned his head to see his friend already fast asleep again. Without another word, he left the room, gently closing the door behind him.

“So, how did it go?” Vivian asked. The Weaver was leaning on the wall close to the doorway.

“Great,” Mono replied, definitely not startling at her unexpected appearance. “It looks like he’ll recover with nothing to worry about.”

“I knew that already. How do you feel?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you that later,” he replied, moving to the staircase. “Right now I have to go do something.”

“Mono…”

He stopped and looked Vivian in the eyes. “I mean it this time.”

She studied his face for several seconds before smiling. “Alright then. Hurry back when you’re done.”

Mono returned the smile before resuming his trek down the staircase. Dashing to his room, he grabbed his purse, his knife, and the new cloak he had purchased before exiting both the room and then the house.

Outside, he took a moment to come up with a plan. While he could simply tell a guard about Daven’s request, he figured that it would be better to narrow down the possible issues instead of just passing on the deity’s vague hint.

“The ill are not sick,” he murmured to himself.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind and he began to quickly descend the wooden patio’s steps. Once he reached the bottom, he took a sharp turn to the left before breaking into a light jog down the cobblestone road.